I Don't Want You to Go
by MoJo-TsuneniToEien
Summary: It all came tumbling down, the wall I'd built around my heart; what I called "home" and "family" just collapsed, and I only had a week—just one—to build back as much of it as I could. To prepare for the possible YEARS ahead of me without Antonio...
1. Chapter 1

**[This is my first fanfiction so bear with me and my author's note:**

**Alright, to introduce myself, I am MoJo—TsuneniToEien (Google translate told me that meant "always and forever" in Japanese) and I've been a member of Fanfiction's website for about a year now as a part-time editor for two users (Dubstepzio and Japanese Butterfly) and writer. I just didn't have anything to post... UNTIL TODAY! Yay!**

**This is an old fanfiction I've been keeping in my Doc Manager for almost as long as I've been a member here that I was inspired to write for a very dear friend who left my school last year... It's kind of late for a present, but I've re-written it enough to say it's good. Now, this is a chapter fic and I'm thinking of posting the second chapter 2-3 days from now (it's already completed, but I need some time to write the last chapter) and the third a couple more days from then.**

**There's a flashback-ey element to my story, so hopefully using this will help avoid confusion:**

**Key: **OXO** is my marker for the present time in Romano's POV. **_~X~_** is my marker for something that happened in the past.** XOX** is my maker for something in Spain's POV, not necessarily present time, though. *Note that when two or more present time markers follow after the other time is moving forward. (**OXO [Text] OXO [Text]**)**

**There won't be another author's note until the end as to not mess up the flow of the story between chapters. Enjoy~!]**

**I Don't Want You to Go**

**Chapter 1**

_I was in the middle of freaking nowhere on some path I'd never seen before (...at least not at night) lost. What else was I to do, though, except continue to run away from all the pain Spain caused me. I didn't understand; 8 days ago Antonio had been saying he might have had to leave to go someplace for just a while... maybe._

_And today it all came tumbling down, the wall I'd built around my heart. What I called "home" and "family" just collapsed, and I only had a week—just one—to build back as much of it as I could. To prepare for the possible YEARS ahead of me without Antonio._

_One. Week. And Antonio would leave me broken and on my own again with the sad pile of bricks and crumbled stone... Today would make it the sixth day of the week. Tensions where high—I called him a liar and a traitor—he didn't want me anymore, I thought, so I ran as fast as I could as far as I could to anyplace that wasn't Spain and where there was no Antonio._

_...I thought you were different, Antonio... I thought you loved me..._

_I was starting to cry again, and got angry. I punched and whacked at the tree that was the closest. I let out everything I was keeping inside screaming and grunting, hitting it tree till my hands were red and hurt too badly for me to go on. At that point I just dropped to the ground and wept._

_It was over. Everything was fucking over._

_There was a quiet rustling (freaking squirrels f- following me everywhere, I bet) and I turned to look behind me and... it was like someone opened a window and lit up my heart. If I hadn't pinched myself so hard to contain all that I was feeling my face probably would've turned as red as a beet and I would have smiled a smile goofier than Spain's._

_When I ran he went after me, even though he had no idea where I went, he eventually found me._

_And he was standing right over there._

OXO

Spain whispered goodnight, but I haven't heard the door to my room close yet.

"W- What do you want, bastard?" I mumbled into my already tear-soaked pillow.

The older man stroked my back letting out soothing shushes. "Roma... why are you trembling—"

"Why do you THINK?!" I spat harshly jerking away from his hand.

...

"... _The _sien-"

"Shut up."

I shot Spain a weary glare. My face was still blotchy and red from crying just a few moments ago, and having remembered this I turned my back on the Spainard, once again.

He tried again, weakly, "_...Roma..._"

"Dammit!" I cried, "I told you to SHUT. _UP._"

_~X~_

_"Romano..." Antonio whispered, unbelieving it was really me standing before him._

_"Spain..." I replied in the same manner. I wanted to run to him and I wanted him to hold me and say he would never leave me and that he wouldn't go out in the middle of the ocean, so far away from me. But I was paralyzed by the fear that if I let him take me back home I'd wake up the next morning to find him gone._

_That was the scariest possible thing I could've imagined and it was what held me to my spot, not getting any closer._

_"Hey, Romano..." he started, cautiously walking towards me. I visibly tensed. "...look, I- I... don't make these decisions, niño..."_

_"But you could stay if you wanted," I shouted, "God gave us free-will knowing there would be sinning barbarians living on His earth! There are other ways to gain wealth and power, so you don't have to leave Spain, Antonio..."_

_The Spainard smiled weakly, and was going to say something when the sound of a branch cracking took his attention. A figure leapt from the woods and swung at Spain._

_Spain blocked the attack, and the weapons clashed—the blade of a sword, and the hilt of Spain's war axe. The man smirked, but by no means was amused._

_"Bonjour, 'Tonio, fancy meeting you here... Gah!"_

_Spain countered: Kicking the Frenchman right in the ribs, Antonio gave himself the space to swing his axe and strike! The freak Spain was up against, however, reacted just in time and their weapons clashed again._

_Something about the pedo-bastard's demeanor had changed, though, and the he glanced quickly—the smallest flicker of fear in his eyes—for the woods where he came._

_He should've retreated right then and there; it would have saved him a lot of pain._

_"You still don't think, after all this time, you're going to beat me finally, do you, Francis?!" Antonio spat._

_France turned back to Antonio, and gave him a devious grin. "You're supposed to be in the middle of the ocean, by now, aren't you? It's not fair of you to keep hogging little Roma~"_

_Antonio growled and aggressively pushed more force against the Frenchman, getting dangerously close to his face. "You shouldn't have come here, France." He lowered his voice intensely, "And this time I'll make sure you never come back."_

_"Oui, mon ami..." France chuckled darkly, "...there won't be any need to, after tonight..."_

_That was when I realized what the French bastard had actually been looking for, all too late..._

_Or, to be more specific, who the Franch bastard had been signaling._

OXO

The bastard won't leave so I give him what he wants, without holding back anymore:

"I'm crying, alright?" the words were shaking out of my throat, "I'm crying now because _YOU_ made me! And you fucking know it! That's why you keep apologizing like, '_Lo siento, lo siento...'_"

I shot-up fiercely locking my 'Boss's' eyes with my own, the burning storm of emotions in my glare...

"If you're so sorry, WHY CAN'T YOU JUST _FUCKING STAY!_" I screamed, no longer able to keep the pain and despair from flooding into my voice. I almost collapsed into the mattress.

_~X~_

_The masked man appeared behind Antonio and didn't hesitate as he plunged his sword into the Spainard's back._

_"We meet again, Spain..."_

_The Ottomon Empire yanked the blade right back out, and Spain horribly screamed and dropped to the ground._

_I was so fucking scared I couldn't even feel the tears pouring out of me._

_He was smirking at me now. I tried backing away, but for every step I took back Turkey took two forward till he was almost completely over me. I began shaking. To make matters even worse I had backed into... **him.**_

_"Don't worry, Roma~" he sang, "I won't let that mean man take you away..." I could hear the movement of France's cloak behind me and he breathed into my ear, "I'll be sharing you too, of course~"_

_That was when he touched me, firmly grabbing hold of my shoulders. His words... roused an image so damn disturbing... that molester didn't even have time to look surprised when I twisted around and slammed my fist into his nose. HARD._

_I was about to run over to Spain's aid (even though I didn't know anything about dealing with battle wounds) but the Ottoman snatched me up, leaving me helpless..._

_I struggled against Turkey's strong grasp, flailing to break free from his hold as he took me further and further from Spain. I couldn't take any more, and I desperately sobbed, "SPAIN, HELP ME! AYUDA ME!"_

_A blur of Antonio raced past me and he jabbed the end of his axe into the middle of Turkey's back. That ended it; Turkey was too shaken to recover from that blow and I fell to the ground, watching Spain assail him senselessly until he became to weak to make any more sound. He left Turkey alive, and France had escaped right when he saw Antonio move..._

_The night passed all too slowly..._

OXO

The Spainard turned away in shame, his dark brown hair sweeping across over his face.

"_...I'm doing this... to keep you safe..._" It was so hard to watch Antonio biting his lip, trying to hold back tears already dripping down his cheek. "I have to do what they tell me, _sweet tomate..._ that's how it works. But I do it for you, Lovino..."

He reached for my face, hesitating a little, then caressed my own tears away. He breathed in shakily, finding strength to face me in such a low moment, holding my chin so it was impossible to look away. His eyes screamed that they were tired, yet they sparkled, guileless and bright.

"_Don't you understand?_" barely a whisper; it's all he could conjure without breaking, himself.

OXO

I woke up late the next morning, confused about what had been a dream and what had not... until I wiped enough sleep from my eyes to notice the tanned, sleeping man sprawled on the floor next to my bed. Holding an axe to his chest.

My heart pounded as I re-played the events from last night right up to the point when Antonio began ruthlessly wailing on Turkey. After that... after that... Antonio picked me up in his arms and carried me back home. I think he woke Belgium up and she asked what happened and wrapped bandages around his wounds, but we were tired (I was drifting off at this time, which is why I can't remember everything) and suddenly we were in my room, and... and...

...I guess we both passed out.

I was glad to have recalled my memories, but there was a sick, heavy feeling in my chest. A feeling of impending doom and anxiety... that's when I suddenly also remembered Spain would be gone in 4 hours.

My heart was pounding again and I clenched my chest (_Why won't that pain go away?_) stumbling around my room. It hurt... it hurt so bad... I mentally and emotionally couldn't take it...

I nearly stepped on Spain's face, but the sound of my footstep was so close to him it woke him up.

"...Romano?" he recognized his surroundings immediately, "what time is it...?"

"...12p.m." I responded solemnly.

"...I have to leave today." A knot formed in my throat.

"...I know."

...

"...Do you still remember what I said to you?"

_What?_

_Wait... what?!_

I looked at him like he was crazy. Like we both had the same dream last night, or something, or maybe I was still asleep! I pinched myself just to make sure, but that didn't work. S- so all that crying and yelling _and_ fighting shit... actually happened?

I felt an odd relief of pain.

"Yes," I mumbled.

He kissed me on my forehead.

"Good," Spain replied.

Maybe for him, but not for me...

He was _leaving._

He was _actually_ leaving.


	2. Chapter 2

XOX

Already, the boat had shipped off, leaving little Romano behind on the dock. The boy and the pirate were waving, and waving...

The Spanish man still found himself wondering, _Why are you letting me go...? Why aren't you sobbing, and shouting, and chasing after me? _Although he knows there's no way Italy, Romano can do any of that... and even if the young boy could, Antonio _España_ Carriedo cannot disobey orders; as a country, it is his obligation to carry out all of his ruler's wishes.

But Lovino disappears—engulfed by the blue darkness of the sea.

It's deep and now that it surrounds him, Spain thinks, perhaps it will go on forever.

"_No..." _he tells himself, "I can't think like that! I've kept a cheerful smile all day, just thinking I'm not fighting for the king of Spain, but for the possibility that I will see my dear Lovino again..." and he smiles, reaching his hand outward to the sky and closing them over the sun.

"That is my promise," a tear of joy streams down his cheek, "that is my happiness and my goal!

One day, Lovino, I'm going to come back to Spain and I'm going to marry you."

OXO

"It's over." the boy promises himself, though, he really doesn't know if it will ever end; the pain is still there... and he has no idea how to make it stop. Without Antonio... Lovino will be lost forever—his heart submerged in darkness—wondering, _Why can't I let you go? Why does it seem like any moment now you'll come back? Why do I want that, while I know that's never going to happen?_

The Netherlands and Belgium are behind him, their own hearts heavy with grief... Belgium takes a step to comfort Lovino in his pain, but is stopped.

"Why... don't you want me to go to him?" she asks her older brother.

"Let him get it all out in his own way, _België."_

So she does, watching Romano scream and sob a million different things in a jumbled up mixture of Spanish, English, and Italian. She doesn't need to be fluent in any of these languages to tell exactly how he feels... his voice reflects every word.

"Oh, _Spanje,_ she whispers, starting to cry, "why did you have to leave this poor dear behind? He loves you so much more than you even know..."

OXO

That heavy feeling in my chest did a lot to me. I had horrible thoughts about what it would be like if no one ever returned here, thinking they'd just all forget one day and I'd fade away. Sometimes I felt like the weight of it was killing me. Sometimes I wanted to die.

There were also times when I would receive letters from Antonio... he'd give me gold (_"From the Americas!")_ and other trinkets that I knew he probably risked his stupid life for when he would tell me about what he thought they were raving on and on about their value and cultural importance...

I grimaced, and threw them all into the sea.

It was sick, and it was pointless, and stupid and... _him._

I sighed, a soft breeze playing with my hair. Faint screams of laughter and children where coming from a distance. I recognized the group; they often woke up early in the mornings playing with each other, and walking the streets together... I've always wondered what it would be like to have had that when I was a child... but, as a country, I wasn't supposed to leave a strong impression...

I only kept the letter, holding it close to my chest—near my heart and away from my eyes. Avoiding the inevitable; enjoying the moment of sweet, sweet relief knowing that Antonio was just simply _alive._

Then came the flood of memories of the very moment Spain and his ship became engulfed by the horizon... but when I remember his last words to me right before he left, I smile—really smile—and squeeze the letter closer like I would squeeze the Spainard, if he were with me... sometimes I'd even cry. A _little._

I really grew a lot during those 6 and-a-half months.

OXO

A young boy carelessly tossed a bouquet of roses, but it bounced off the grave of his caretaker and fell into the freshly trimmed grass, still perfectly intact.

_Well, _fuck_._

He scoffed and approached the grave with a vengeance. "You broke your promise, you bastard... You don't even fucking de—"

_"Lovino, stop! What are you doing?!"_

_~X~_

_All delight abruptly dropped dead from the peaceful air of the garden, shocking the Spainard's Italian charge from his destructive trance:_

_"I- I- wh- wha- wai-" he spluttered._

_"No, no, no, no, no, no..." Antonio mumbled picking Lovino up and carrying the child from the defiled roses to the patio._

_"Romano," Spain spoke as lightly as he could, "do you know whose flowers those are?"_

_Southern Italy shook his head "no."_

_"Not mine. That means I have to take extra special care of them..."_

_The boy scowled._

_"They're your crazy boss's—"_

_"Mad Queen's," he corrected. "And si."_

_"Why do you have to take care of them?" Romano protested, "She treats you like shit anyway. You should let them die!"_

_Spain chuckled, having been flattered unintentionally. "It's called an ob-li-ga-tion. It's my obligation as a country to serve my ruler respectfully, as it is—" tapped Romano's nose in time with the word: "yours to do work for me!" he beamed._

_Lovino's flustered and childish innocence rubbed the spot frantically, as if he were hoping to erase the touch from existence getting a playful laugh and hair-ruffling from his cheery boss._

_"Bastard, stay out of my hair!"_

_Spain winked, "You're cute, y'know, Lovi?"_

_His "Lovi's" cheeks heated._

_"Wha—FUCKING PEDO!" Romano shouted and ran off._

OXO

"It's my obligation..." Romano started letting his lowered foot finish the sentence.

OXO

It'd been two months since the war ended; two months since the remains of Southern Italy's barrier blew somewhere far away; two months since Antonio's ship sank.

Word had spread quickly around the European nations from England to France, Netherlands, and Belgium; Belgium to me; France to Prussia; Prussia to Austria (where Feliciano lived.)

Feliciano insisted to his caretakers that they go to Spain's manor immediately, where he was afraid his older brother Romano was alone... Austria took Hungary and Veneziano with him, under the pretext that it was their duty to pay respects to the lost country, in place of the Holy Roman Empire, and simply to check that Romano was fufilling his responsibilities as an independent part of Italy.

When they arrived at the manor all three wore the same look of surprise on their faces at the sight of a weeping Belgium being comforted by a grown, prepubescent Romano smiling so very slightly... until he noticed all the others and immediately his smile became a frown.

"Well, what the hell are you gawking at?" he glared at the trio, "come inside, already... jerks..."

Hungary closed her mouth and gave a smile to her boys, and, taking hold of little Italy's hand, walked into the room sitting right down next to Belgium. She gave her a hug.

"Hello, Belgium, dear." The Hungarian woman also gave the older Italy a pat on the head, "Hey there, ...Romano."

Northern Italy didn't understand how his brother was able to smile after the tragedy that befell his caretaker. Sure, he understood that sometimes they could be very strict and their food, downright suck, but... he couldn't believe Romano had hated Spain this whole time. _THAT_ had to be impossible... Veneziano didn't know how, but he could just _tell_ with Romano sometimes how things really were.

They stayed the night, and early the next morning before the sun rose Romano got out of bed and walked down to Spain's unofficial grave (he liked to say "good morning" to him) unknowing that he was being followed...

OXO

"Ve... Romano?" Veneziano hesitated to put his hand on his older brother's shoulder, "Are you okay?"

Romano couldn't keep himself from smirking, just a little.

"I wish he hadn't died, but it's alright now because I'm going to be with him again. One day, Veneziano, we'll all be together forever in God's house. You, me, Antonio, and even _Nonno..._"

The Northern part of Italy was getting nervous of what his brother was saying, but not as nervous as Romano himself who awkwardly realized what he had been implying. **  
**

"_He_ told me, Vene..." Romano explained calmly, "right before he left he said that no matter how long he was gone or how far away he was we'd be with each other again. Even though this probably isn't what he meant, when the time comes and I-" Romano had to take a few moments and catch his breath, "...I pass away, Feli—_naturally,_ you dumb-fuck," he laughed, giving his brother a pat on the back. He was trying to lighten the mood because he didn't know how to deal with his little brother, whom he was driving to tears. "...My soul is going to Heaven to be with his. That's how it works."

They sat down beside each other, the curls of their hair making a little heart shape between them that lasted until Veneziano released a shaky breath and cried into his older brother's shoulder. Romano rubbed his back the way Spain had done for him many nights ago...

He really wasn't as dumb as he'd looked, that Spain.

XOX

From the ship-wrecked remains of his defeated armada, the Spainard rose above the sea and trekked through the dark, fist clenched around the hilt of a knife; holding on tightly to his freedom.

There, standing before him—face away, and back exposed—was the presumptuous Brit ("the _real_ King of the Seas!") who bested his shipmates and was waiting for the Queen's carriage to take him back home. Little did he know how fast his victory was fleeting from him, now that he had become the only obstacle in his enemy's way from a one-way trip back home. Back to Spain. Back with Belgium and back with Romano.

The man's lips twisted into a terrible, murderous grin.

He starts, the ominous figure racing into the alleyway, darting from shadow, to shadow, and approaching his enemy without emitting a single noise other than the soles of his shoes hitting the pavement.

The dull-colored moon looks like it's been drawn with chalk into the cloudy sky... hardly any of this seems real—this city, these buildings, not even the vast and merciless ocean. It's all a dream come true for the monster that emerges from the dark, striding to the man, to his country, to his love!

Only a number of feet away... a single thrust of his arm and a lunge and it would all—

"AAAAARRTHUURRR!"

Astonishment hits him, and stops him in his tracks. He observes his enemy: This so-called "King" is trembling... hard... and crying. Then, his own blood runs cold. He's frozen at the sight of the young ash-blonde boy whose blue eyes sparkle innocence, like sapphire jewels... The boy takes off dashing across the moon-lit stone and through the night air towards the blonde devil.

"Alfred..." he hardly chokes it out, dropping to his knees, and the child crashes into his arms.

He finds his own tears sliding down his cheek, for the goal Spain had forgotten... He's become so obsessed with the concept of _revenge_ and _winning_ that it's blinded him from the real prize.

_That's it... it's over... I can go home now._

Antonio drops his weapon, leaving it behind him along with his craving for war. When it clatters to the pavement, the two boys look up in alarm

...but there's nobody there.

He's going to Spain.


	3. Chapter 3

OXO

Vene and the others left that morning following their arrival, bidding Belgium and I farewell. Belgium also had to return to her homeland with the Netherlands as she had some business there to attend to; I tried asking about it once, but she wouldn't say... just leaving me with a kiss on the head.

It gave me something to think about, as I made my way down the path to the marketplace—a long trip, but a nice one...

...usually.

OXO

I left the manor in the evening when the sun wasn't up too high, nearing the horizon, and the stands weren't too crowded. Sometimes I'd pass other people who were coming by and they were always friendly and always gave me a little wave. I hadn't seen anybody yet, though.

It had actually rained the day before and the sky still looked sleepy with the few clouds that were left (the weather affects the way Spain's citizens spend their day, I've noticed...)

The bottoms of the clouds were lined, orange by the sun... the sky itself was a dull blue that became lighter the closer it was to the sun and darker the closer it was to the moon. From far away rays of light pierced through the leaves of the woods separating the busy town from the calm countryside, and I often had the urge to create a painting of this scene, but I had neither the genes nor the training to do so, and always frustrated myself when I tried.

Well, in the midst of my thoughts something started happening. A figure was emerging from the distance, and it appeared very tall and wore what seemed to be a cape. Their head was low and they walked like they were very tired... but against the sunlight I couldn't make out who I was seeing. Then he stopped, and I stopped too.

He suddenly looked up and noticed me, cocking his head to the side and shaking very slightly, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

The man had brown hair and green eyes, and I could read his expression from 50 feet away.

My eyes widened. No words would leave my mouth, but in my head was the same line repeating over and over:

_No. ... No, no, no ..._

Who the hell _was_ this man? Why did he seem so familiar?! For the _life_ of me I couldn't match a name with the dead image of the smiling face in my head... it was unreal... it was...

_No, no, no, no._

He's dead, he's dead and gone from the world forever and in front of me was just another dream—I was just dreaming! I was only dreaming and I'd wake up with tears in my eyes like I did all the nights I dreamt of _Antonio... 'mio caro, Antonio' _I'd whisper too quietly for him to ever hear me in real life, but he'd pick me up and kiss me on the lips, anyway. This wasn't real, though, this wasn't fucking real—not the wind, not the puddle with my reflection, not even the grass.

Spain continued to come forward.

_No, no, no, no,_ I thought. I pinched myself and the pain was there but everything was still so hazy; how could this be...? How could I wake up? How could I wake up and end this _torture?!_

"I want to wake up..." I sobbed. Even the warm tears I could feel sliding down my face couldn't be real... "God, please, let me wake up..."

"Romano..." He looked dashing in his muddy boots, drenched collar shirt, and tattered red trench coat flowing in the breeze, and his hair which was messier than usual.

"You're _dead!_" I shouted, feigning bravery like I always did by yelling. "You're not real, you're _dead,_ Antonio..._"_ I continued, ignoring the surprised look on his face hearing me call him by his human name, "D- _don't_ come any closer... just _go away_—I don't want you in my dreams anymore if you're not going to be there when I wake up!"

Now I was full-blown weeping, begging him to leave and for this bad dream to end. But he kept walking forward, with the softest and most thoughtful smile you could imagine plastered on his face—a very rare smile I had only seen once before, in full detail... Then a dizzy-spell came over me and the background was lost in the hazy reeling of greens, then... oh wait, I was falling. Though... it really was like a heat wave distorting my sight of everything and though I'd realized what was happening I knew I wouldn't be able to react fast enough to stop myself.

Oh well, usually in dreams like this I'd wake up right in my bed right before I hit the ground, and, I thought, that was probably what was going to happen this time, as my head was nearing the stone...

But Antonio screamed, and everything all of a sudden became very real; in a flash two strong hands were under the crook of my shoulders, holding me up, limp and shell-shocked.

My thoughts were working slower than everything else again—I didn't know whether to react upon my fear from what almost became a VERY treacherous experience or to react upon the extreme relief and joy from... from the source of those two, tanned arms; ...an extreme happiness that I had never felt before welled up inside me, so great that I couldn't keep it all in and I wept tears of joy, sliding down my cheeks.

Antonio brought me into his chest.

"It's alright now, _mi amor..._ no more bad dreams... I'm here."

I cried, wrapping my arms around his back and squeezed him tighter.

Then I said, "I love you, Antonio..."

And he said, "I love _you,_ Lovino." Antonio took in a very shaky breath, "..._Lo siento mucho..._"

"_Non essere dispiaciuto. Stronzo,_" I whispered.

"...Lovi~?"

I met his sparkling eyes with mine and he opened his mouth to speak, but there was only silence; he took the longest time looking into my eyes.

"You've been growing up..." he stated (reluctantly?) Moments later, he beamed, "You've gotten taller~ and so, so, so handsome!"

I blushed furiously pulling away. "Sh- shut up! God, why are you so fucking weird?!"

"I'm proud."

...

"_...What?_" I spoke so quietly that if Spain wasn't feet from me he would've thought I mouthed it.

"I'm proud of you, Lovino."

_"Oh." _I didn't ask why, I just took the compliment and thanked him with a very small, very quick smirk...

...and, if I had known better I would've said that I saw him blush.

**_~Fin~_**

**[Translations: **Spanish- _Mi amor_= My love _Lo siento mucho= _I'm very/really sorry

Italian **- **_Mio caro_= My dear (as in "beloved") _Non essere dispiaciuto, stronzo= _Don't be sorry, asshole

The other words are just country names in the languages of the speakers**—**they're pretty obvious.

**Thank you very much for reading my story~ I really wanted to do something different from the depressed Romano motif that was still in-character which was the biggest edit to the story I made; originally, he was going to become extremely suicidal (possibly attempt to end his life) and ****_Veneziano_**** be the one to become stronger for his older brother. But... I felt like I could get a better idea across, if I wanted, about death and dying through this fanfiction and I feel that I did:**

"I wish he hadn't died, but it's alright now because I'm going to be with him again. One day, Veneziano, we'll all be together forever in God's house. You, me, Antonio, and even _Nonno... _...Even though this probably isn't what he meant, when the time comes and I- ...I pass away... My soul is going to Heaven to be with his. That's how it works."

**Instead of being focused on the loneliness and emptiness he feels when Spain "dies," Romano looks forward to the future of his own death, one day being able to spend eternity with Spain. That was my big idea. **

**If you liked it (or if you didn't, but have constructive criticism) I would appreciate a review—it doesn't have to be a long, detailed one—anything helps encourage me to write more fanfics and post more often too. Also, if my writing touched you that much, following me as an author would be a good idea so you can receive notifications for when I come out with new stories! **

**One last thing: There's no way I would've had the confidence or motivation to post this story without the helpful critiques of the lovely Japanese Butterfly, so, I recommend you give her stories a look. **

**...That's all I have to say. Good-bye, until the next fanfiction! :) ]**


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